Loves, Lies, Hate, and Betrayal
by candy4me
Summary: Love, Lies, Hate, and Betrayal Summary


Chapter 1: The Message  
  
"Boy! You come down here this instant!" yelled Uncle Vernon, his fist clenched tightly.  
  
Harry came down the stairs slowly so he could avoid Unlce Vernon for as long as he can but paced as he yelled more loudly it was as though the all of Privet Drive could hear him.  
Harry hadn't known what he did or said and sat down on the sofa in the living room.  
  
"WHAT DID YOU DO?" roared Uncle Vernon.  
  
Harry sat there not knowing what he was talking about. He looked confused and didn't know what to say to his uncle.  
  
"YOU ANSWER ME RIGHT THIS MINUTE! I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU DID!"  
  
"I don't get it. What are you talking about? I didn't do anything." Harry said calmly, still looking confused.  
  
"Don't "I don't get it. What are talking about?" me! You know what you did!" Uncle Vernon shouted, even louder than last time.  
  
His face was getting purple and his mind full of anger. His shouting made Aunt Petunia and Dudley get out of bed. They both looked sleepy and their eyes kept closing every 5 seconds or so.  
  
"Vernon, 3:00 in the morning! What in the world are shouting for?" Aunt Petunia said angrily.  
  
"This--he--WHY DON'T LOOK LOOK OUTSIDE AND SEE WHAT HE DID!" Uncle Vernon yelled.  
  
Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley went outside and soon after Aunt Petunia screamed, Harry came out. He went to back of the Dursleys' car and looked at the house.  
It was completely covered in every single kind of paint you could imagine being invented.  
Spary paints, house paint, wood paint, water and so much more. Every color you could imagine was in there but all jumbled up with other kinds of colors and paint. But that was just the backround. It was the words that made the entire thing so interesting.  
  
"Muggles will die, wizards will rule, and Lord Voldemort will come back with full strength and his supporters by his side. Lord Voldemort will rule the world." Harry whispered to himself.  
  
For a second, he could not believe what he had just read. He read it again 5 more times until finally he knew this wasn't a dream. It was real.  
  
Harry went up to the writing and examined it closely. Everything was in paint. At least,  
thats what everyone else would think. The writing was no doubt written in anything other than--  
  
"Blood!" Dudley screamed.  
  
He screamed around the neighborhood shouting and screaming "blood" until everyone on Privet Drive woke up to see what all the commotion was about. Everyone looked from the house and then down to Harry.  
  
"It's him! Vernon! Look at his hands! HIS HANDS!" said a woman, shrieking with fear.  
  
"Yeah! There's blood and paint on his hands! And look at his night-shirt! It's covered in blood and paint, too!" another man shouted.  
  
Harry looked around and glared at every person who accused him. And then, he looked at Mrs. Figg. She was the only magical-realted person he knew but Harry knew that even Mrs. Figg couldn't do anything. All she did was mouth "Sorry, Harry."  
  
"Uncle Vernon, I swear I didn't do it! I swear--!"  
  
"ENOUGH OF YOUR LIES! LOOK AT THIS! BOTTLES! OF WHAT? BEER OF YOUR Lo--"  
  
"VERNON! People are around!" Aunt Petunia whispered to him.  
  
"It's not beer! I-I...I swear I didn't do it...I swear." Harry said innocently.  
  
Harry hadn't anything to do with this until he looked at his hands and shirt. It was covered in blood and paint. But how could he not remember? If he done this or had any knowledge about this, surely he would've remembered. Wait...that looks like Brandy! thought Harry,  
no...it couldn't be... Harry went back inside while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon shooed everyone away until they all went into their own house.  
  
Harry thought that maybe someone made hime get out by using the Imperious Curse on him and made him write that message and cover the house in paint. Then, make him drink large amounts of brandy. But no...that was just too silly. The Imperious Curse was illegal and nobody would force a 16-year-old into drinking brandy. Not when he was a non-drinker and not to mention he was underage. But as Harry thought about, he thought maybe his theory was true. His hand covered in blood and paint. The so many bottles of brandy that seemd to have been thrashed to ground and shattered into thousands of pieces.  
And, the paint cans and spray bottles on the right side of the Dursleys' car. But one thing didn't make much sense: Whose blood was it and did he kill someone?  
  
There was so much to think about that he couldn't sleep. Harry got up and made his way down to the kitchen to make himself something to eat so he wouldn't have to get and face his aunt, unlce, or his cousin. 


End file.
